"denunciation" poems
She is the lady on the road.
She is a mother, a sister, a colleague, a bird, a lassie, a damsel.
She is the lady on the road.
She spreads love and enriches kindness in the society,
She is the crux of an organization, and the fundamental principles.
She is the lady on the road.
She twinkles with the stars and shimmers with the moon,
She scampers with her pets and hops like a frog,
She is not a nomad, but a faithful keeper.
She is the lady on the road.
She wears short skirts,
She wears tight tops,
She doesn't encourage the flirts,
She neither abominates the leering of cops.
She is the lady on the road.
She holds a honourable reputation,
She forms the base of ethical standards,
She buries the grudges and resolves the dissension,
She consolidates herself and maintains her fettle,
She is the epitome of cheerful disposition.
She is the lady on the road.
She ignores the catcalls,
She endures the torture and prevails her morale,
She is a monument unshakable, and a stone unbreakable,
She dumps her burdens and enlightens her destiny,
She protects her dignity and negotiates with denunciation,
She does no harm, but deals with it.
She is the lady on the road, ..the seventh wonder of the world.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
The demons are bleeding from the walls
Pouring thick like screeching molasses
Grabbing me by my eye sockets
With twelve inch ripping talons
Pulling and tearing my flesh taut
Like some morose antagonism of obesity
Dragging me thru the hardwood floorboards
Thru a river flowing with moaning, groaning souls
Cast into a stygian darkness that blinds the eyes
The magnitude of grotesque revulsion
That unveils itself before me
In monstrous catastrophe
Ignites my dejected soul
To wisps of smoke and smoldering ashes
Set to a contour of unremitting denunciation
Scorching pits of fire, brimstone, and sulfur
The suffocated withering of my intentions
The agony of ennui
And the simplicity of sin
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 10:50 AM UTC
Slowly I fade away into the background to be forgotten
Bluntly dumped full of mold like I am rotten
I took a chance ….. I went ahead with fate’s plan…. I took a leap of faith
I think it’s now safe to say I now know what is pain…I now understand Cain
Life is a two faced ***** who will stab you in the back
Does not care whether you blue, green or black
At last, I got the memo; at last I get the picture because there was never one
Truth be told I never did belong… life treated me like a disposable material
Even some materials are recycled.. What about me then? Aint I that worth it?
I wish I could find someone who loves me for me…
Someone who does not sell me empty promises and then leave me dry, hanging and afraid of the world
Its funny enough I sought to the devil for refuge... …Was willing to shed blood to belong
But… but he too even dumped me! I look to the heavens for solace but I receive denunciation
They made me feel like there was nothing left of me
Am I wrong for wanting more? Am I a sinner for asking for acceptance?
My knees be blue and black from praying loud yet silent unanswered prayers
My heart bleeds as I illuminate a fake smile…my dark soul suffocates me
I gasp for air as if I am in a pit of hell. No… I am in hell
I search this world seeking where I could fit in….. but to no avail
I guess everyone does belong somewhere right? This god had a plan!
A well constructed script that included everyone even the unwanted extras
What about me then? That’s a question I ask as the heavens deny me placate
That’s my case against the world….. Because the world sold me a dream
A dream that was a blunt twisted lie because life proved me wrong
My blood runs cold with a chill
**** I think I might need that ecstasy pill
I put on my pride…… hell life took me for a **** ride! I now watch from the side
At last as I make my final choice …. To depart this earth...
This trap, this tunnel of horror with no glimpse of light
Dear too late... …. If ever this note reaches you ... In this exact moment when you read it
It then means at last you got what you wanted
At last you may never ever understand because... Because
You never really knew me….at last I just faded into the background
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
I slept through a dream in which the flowers wouldn't grow,
And all the books were written in languages I didn't know.
I myself was enfixed within a village,
Perplexed by its lack of esteem,
And its lights and their lack of algeam.
I danced around this dreary place,
And ran into other dreamers,
That dwelled in the same the tragedy I feebly faced.
The villagers were somber,
Silent in their trudge,
Never allowing their enslaved minds to wander
Trivializing their reluctant grudge.
I waltzed through their pilgrimage,
As freely as I could,
But of the purpose of their mindless journey,
Is something I never understood.
It was a dreadful situation,
The most serious of all plights
In which the most wonderful of ideas
Couldn't take flight.
We arrived at our destination,
Though it never was in view.
And soon the of denunciation
of any sort of act of wondrous might
Would promptly ensue.
Impatiently I waited
Shifting feverishly in my place,
Forever waiting for the awakening
of the of minds of null space
That left my confidence wavering.
Soon a ghastly figure appeared,
and announced to the multitude
An inevitable fate inevitably feared:
Our generation had arrived at a
Gruesome interlude.
But then it all ceased,
My eyes fluttered open
And I sat up straight last not least.
Thank heavens my mind could only imagine
Such imagination decreased.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
She sits….waits, ponders as the darkness arises
She’s lost in a sea of emotions, an overwhelming surge of melancholy
She hears them calling her, the fear of the unknown, the fear of the known
She hides and tries her best to block them out
Alas, they're near, closing in with every second that passes
Fear of denunciation, fear of admonition
The ghastly forms they take at night is enough to drive her mad
Yet all she does is sit and watch them as they burn her dreams before her eyes
Her talents gone in what seemed like seconds
Her heart a ****** bath of wrongs and rights
What can she do to make them go away? To make them all just disappear?
She’s in a never ending circle contemplating the one thing all her values go against
Her religion, her beliefs urges her to stand strong and not give in, why should it even be an option?
Yet every day the scars go deeper and deeper; it calls to her during the night
It makes her think and ponder that if she takes that ticket out everything will be alright
It’s a one way ticket straight to hell but is this not what that is?
It goes on and on and never ends, should she commit suicide or stand strong till the end?
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
Oh the tears
Oh the pain
Oh the anguish
The suffering of the people
With their sorrowful heart
Broken to pieces by wickedness
Smothered and shredded
Afflicted and forsaken
Seeking peace and comfort
Calling out to whoever
Crying out for help
But all to no avail
I dwell in self gratification
I live in a conceited world
My words are to your derision
Denunciation is my motto
I care less about the world around me
Stinginess lies in my marrow
I am aroused by an inordinate desire for greatness
Treachery lies in my heart
I am impenitent and obdurate
I am consumed by my profane thoughts
And yet I say
I am chosen nation
A royal priesthood
A peculiar person
Dwelling in Glory and Splendor
Enjoying the Goodness of The Almighty
Not minding the world around me
Ignoring their cries
Overlooking their pains
Oblivious to their anguish
Though I know the way to peace
And God as made me a light of the world
I covert this light for myself alone
My selfish deeds
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
Πάπυρος είναι δική μου άποροι ταινία, είναι ντεμοντέ να καμίνι του άλλου, όπως feeleth το τσίμπημα της κάθε καταγγελίας !!! Όπου είναι εραστής ορυχείο διαμορφωμένο φυτεία; καμουφλαρισμένη σε drag and επίγεια βλοσυρό ύφος του; ορυχείο κόκκινο μπαλόνι ουρλιαχτό στην ηλιακή παγετώνων !!! όμως, δεν πρέπει να υπάρχει πάγωμα σε θερμά μπάλα φωτός. Τώρα tis κουραστική μέρα και νύχτα unharmonious να θρηνεί σε shakespherian κομψό ..... για πού είχε συ προπορεύεται μπουτίκ; όπου λουλούδι για σένα έχω την οποίαν αποθηκεύονται !!! εγώ δεν εξερευνήσουν να προσαρμόσουν όπως πένθος, ήταν να είναι δύσκολο να ψάχνει, πραγματικό το πρωί; Δεν είναι μια ιδιοτροπία μου splitteth ως τσεκούρι για ξύλινα περικαλύπτω. ορυχείο ανίερη γλώσσα crinches ορυχείο δόντια, να δαγκώσει φίδι ειδώλιο τρόπο ..... Paragon των farawayness, η συστολή σου hath μου άφησε, λιώνω στο να έχουν ακόμη haveth μηδέν !! Ωστόσο, ακόμα και όλη αυτή την κόλαση, το ορυχείο oldened λείψανο πάπυρο θέλεις να αποκατασταθεί πλήρως εκατό φορές ..... δείτε, NOF αυτή η καρδιά του αυτό το τρομάζω γήινης σφαίρας
( Greek tongue )
English version-
Papyrus is mine destitute film, it's old fashioned to other's kiln, as i feeleth the sting of all denunciation!!! Wherein is mine lover fashioned plantation? camouflaged in drag and terrestrial scowl's? mine red baloon howl's to solar glaciation!!! yet, there should be no freeze to a warmly ball of light. Now tis long day's and unharmonious night's to lament in shakespherian chic..... for whence did thou goeth boutique? wherein flower's for thee i hast stored!!! i do not explore to tailor such mourning, was it to hard to seeketh real in the morning? Not a vagary to splitteth me as axe to wooden sheathe. mine unholy tongue crinches mine teeth, to bite in snake figurine manner..... Paragon of farawayness, thy shyness hath left me, i languish in must have's yet haveth naught!! Yet in even all this hell, mine oldened relic papyrus shalt be fully restored a hundred fold..... see, this heart's not of this daunt terrestrial globe.....
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
Just in case you
couldn't
guess, it's not a
a fair fight
or a level
playing field.
It's you with
boxing gloves
and them with
machine guns.
It's Van Gogh
throwing his paintings
out the window
to stop the hecklers.
It's Janis falling
down
the stairs, lonely
and
broken
looking for love.
It's Morrison seeing
the game for
what it was,
wanting to disappear
in France and
write poetry,
then dying in a
bathtub with a
witch in the wings.
It's morphine dreams
and thorazine days.
It's the tiger
declawed and lobotomized
at the zoo.
It's the lobster
cursed with
precious meat.
It's the statue of liberty,
burning her bra
and impaling
working class men with
her stiletto heels.
It's Gogol
dying after a
prolonged fast,
because a charlatan
told him
it was evil.
It's the elephant
domesticated by
the cage, but
still dreaming of
the Serengeti.
It's the dolphin in
a Hollywood
swimming pool,
a shark in your
coffee cup;
it's the criminality
of releasing the insane
from their cages to
wander the streets of
Santa Barbara.
It's pathetic and putrid,
a setup up;
the perfect tragedy;
a crime that goes beyond
denunciation.
It's what they will continue
to do to
you and me
until someone or something
intervenes.
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 11:37 AM UTC
In bitter denunciation, their human life span in
limitation , of all that might be accomplished
Men with incredible talents, shunted be error,
or happenstance , into solo orbit, around
unfulfilled dreams
Left to remember the past, while their days dwindle
Seeking peace in the open air
Looking to the stars
To the Extreme
At last
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 6:56 PM UTC
The light began to dim because
the oil was running low and the
morning came a creeping up
as if I didn't know,
never meant to be the stranger
I am Tonto to the Sunshine Ranger.
Invincible
I am the storm
reap me, read me
in the early morn.
In spite of me
I write of me
my protestation is but
the denunciation of
previous wrongs
and the megalo' in me
dressed as Romeo
sees the spotlight on me
as I put on
the one man show.
Behind these masks
there are certain deeds and tasks
of which I shall not mention.
Against the rule of
Isaac
Balzac
vitamin A and
Prozac
I would tack this to the end
but the end is yet to be and
in this the truth could be
nothing more than
ripened Brie
( nice to spread upon your bread,
but fit for nothing else)
I would be a Jane
but I am John
also a Christian
and how do I carry on
this thread?
What I see inside is
beyond me
as fathomless as a
bottomless sea
I never understood
how could I?
the third eye
is blind.
Between the cemetery
and the library
a sign that reads,
here lies my poetry
RIP.
.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
How to describe the era we live in today
one filled with a constant diatribe
of those beliefs that were once treasured
Now it seems the more bellicose one appears
the more they are held in high regard
with those that are voluble taking center stage
Being peaceable is now a quality to endear
with the denunciation of the common good
replaced with boisterous chest beating
Antagonism is the order of the this time
using social media to be pugnacious
and argumentative the norm
One can only shake ones head
to the contriving that has infected our humanity
with machinations too wild to believe
We are besieged by the need to be superior
to the people that share our streets
is this because our voices have been drown out
We vilify those who dare denounce
this way of being with venom
like that of a deadly snake
Hoping to silence those that oppose them
with a tyranny of fake news claims
neither verifiable nor accurate
Into this world our children are being born
what will they learn
that belligerence is the way to get ahead
Pity us all for we will all rue the day
that we collectively chose leaders
who embody these qualities
Andreas Simic©
Dec 23, 2017
Dec 23, 2017 at 8:45 PM UTC
There is a crime that
goes beyond
denunciation.
There is a sorrow,
a hollowness
that weeping
can't even begin
to symbolize.
There is a failure in
life
that topples and
belittles all
success.
When trying to focus on
life
is like looking through
a kaleidoscope,
when sounds liquify, and
odors take shape and
waltz
to sullen night music,
life must end.
Life must end because
a profit can no longer be
ripped from your
hands, your knowledge,
your punctuality, or your
dedication to
the machine.
Ever since I can remember,
I sensed the
randomness of it
all.
I fought against it
I had faith; I believed.
Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 8:23 AM UTC